


"The Death" of Erek Derekson

by AngelsGuts



Category: markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 18:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19773679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelsGuts/pseuds/AngelsGuts
Summary: A story based on Mark's story of Erek from one of the Members Only Livestreams.Please for the love of God get on my ass about this one, I need it to be my legacy.





	"The Death" of Erek Derekson

Everything had led up to this moment: every self confidence class, every day he’d spent in front of the mirror pointing things out about himself that he loved instead of hated, and every time he defended himself against his Dad and anyone else that had, for all of his life, treated him like a pushover. All of that was coming to a focal-point. 

As he stood at the edge of the cliff, his heart drummed off-tempo melodies into his ears, discombobulating him as he peered over the edge. He’d never done something so daring, not even when he snuck his horse, Gerek, into the fireworks barn way back when. His body shook, but he told himself that he could do this - he  _ wanted  _ to do this. He’d spent far too long in other people’s shadows, taking everyone else’s- 

He took a deep breath, fingers wrapping around the cords of the paraglider. If anything, he could prove to  _ himself  _ that he could do anything. His bad luck streak ended here.

“Alright, buddy, you ready?” The instructor asked, giving the harness a quick once-over. Erek nodded, a gentle smile on his face. The excitement of it all quickly began to overcome the fear that was so deeply imbedded into his very being. The adrenaline coursing through his veins was a welcome feeling - much preferred to the usual anxiety that it replaced. “Cool!” The instructor chimed, patting Erek’s stomach, "have fun then, bud. Remember what you learned.”

Erek gripped the straps around his shoulders, nodding to himself once more before he prepared for lift off. As he was taught, he walked forward, pulling on the wing to allow it to properly fill with air. He did everything he was told to do: he checked the brake-lines and the A-lines and the C-lines and the B-lines, he made sure nothing was tangled and that everything was filled properly, and then he continued  in to the launching phase. When he was off the ground, things seemed to go smoothly. The air gently pulled him upwards, which made him laugh excitedly. He looked down and around him, an awestruck smile lighting up his gentle features.

As each tree and person below him got smaller, so did all of the doubt he’d ever had about himself. He’d worked  _ so hard,  _ and look where he ended up! He was above all of it now, quite literally. He was above his Dad, above the people that made fun of him, above business school, and most  _ certainly  _ above selling charity merchandise. Perhaps he’d open a business of his own! A flower shop, or a coffee shop where cute girls could walk in and order their mocha lattes. The thought brought a soft, embarrassed smile to his face.

With every up there is a down, however, and for Erek, right then, that meant that he found himself suddenly careening down the side of the mountain at a neck-snappingly fast pace. What was once peaceful and enjoyable was now a horror fest as the wing began to deflate, descending him downwards to his doom. Desperately, Erek searched for the reserve. When he attempted to deploy it, however, nothing happened, sending him into a further state of panic. 

“Okay, Erek,” he whimpered to himself, tugging at the brake-lines and just trying to slow down, “y-you can do this-!”

He didn’t believe himself. How could he when he was plummeting to his death? He muttered desperate prayers, recited old bible verses that he’d memorized in school. If God really did exist, and he was a merciful God, then perhaps he’d save him - or at least make all of this end quickly.

God had granted him one prayer, at the very least. As he fell, Erek spotted his father. He stood with binoculars, watching his son fall from the sky like a fallen angel. Erek’s eyes widened as he noticed that this was his chance. If he was going to die, he was going to die knowing that he had finally - _ finally _ \- punched his father in the face.

“Take this Dad! Imma prove you wrong!” Erek cried as he miraculously got close enough to deck his father in the jaw.

“AUH, SHON!” Derek cried, holding his now-broken jaw, “You shonovabish! I can’t believe you! I can’t believe you’d pun’h me but yanno I respect you! I respect you!” He looked up to see his son still falling, somehow not having crashed right next to his father despite being so close. The speed at which he was falling was  _ incredibly  _ worrying. Now that Erek had proven that he was worthy of respect, he might lose  _ him _ , too. A single tear slipped down Derek’s cheek as he mourned the loss of yet another one of his sons. Erek’s words finally caught up to his father, ringing in his ears. So his son was falling fast enough to break the sound barrier, his dying words being that he was going to prove him wrong. What a heartbreakingly motivational way to die. Derek shed another tear and shook his head sadly before wincing at the pain in his jaw.

Retribution. Though he was now satisfied with having proved himself to the one man he needed to most, he still feared that perhaps he had more to do in life than just punching his father in the face. He screamed, arms wrapping around himself as he fell at an ungodly speed. The crash came suddenly, shocking Erek to his core. The sound of the explosion was lost to him as he was knocked unconscious.

When he came to, every part of his body hurt. He tried to sit up, finding that his left arm was horribly broken. He whimpered in pain, trying to use his other arm to prop himself up. Pain shot up from his legs, causing him to cry out loudly. Tears streamed down his face as he quickly came to realize that at _ least _ his arm and both of his legs were broken. Despite the pain, he rearranged himself, struggled out of the harness, and pulled himself to sit against a tree.

At the very least, he figured, he could try to reset his arm. That seemed to be the easiest course of action. He took his broken arm into his hand, taking a deep breath before roughly snapping it as well into place as he could. He screamed in pain, his entire body tensing as the initial reaction pulsed through him. He panted heavily, regaining himself before trying to move his arm again.

It moved smoothly, with some pain, so he figured he’d done a well enough job for the time being. It was life or death now, there was no time for games. 

His attention fell to his legs now. They were much more complicated - not only because they were broken, but because even if they  _ weren’t,  _ he didn’t have the feet he’d need to walk. His prosthetics were lost during the fall, hopefully not hitting anyone and killing them from blunt force trauma. He rested his head back, staring into the leaves above him as he considered his options. He could lay there forever, at the mercy of Mother Nature’s every whim - whether that be death by coyotes or lightning, or he could try to do the impossible and somehow walk on the stubs he had. He sighed softly, scouring the area for things to use. He spotted some sturdy sticks not too far from him, which he decided could be helpful in making an improvised splint or two. Perhaps they wouldn’t be too difficult to walk on, though they’d definitely be uncomfortable.

Erek dragged himself over to the sticks he found, holding them against his legs and measuring them. When one proved to be useless, he dragged himself around some more, desperately looking for other things like vines or some conveniently forgotten rope.

With time, dedication, mud, blood, sweat, and tears, Erek was able to make two semi-decent splints. He pulled himself into a standing position using a low-hanging branch, wincing in pain as gravity pulled the pressure to his broken bones. He took a moment to whine, then attempted to walk. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but it was doable. He couldn’t bend his knees, but if he used this other really big branch he found as a walking stick, things went sort of okay. He took a deep breath, body shaking from the pain he was enduring.

“I can do this,” Erek said softly to himself, “If Mom were here, she’d tell me I was being very- very brave. That I- I was a problem solver! A-and very strong!”

The thoughts of his mother coaxed him further, reducing the pain only a little, but enough for it to be bearable. He would get out of here - he’d get out of here alive, and it’d all be for his mother.

Erek waddled towards a clearing, looking up at the sky. It was going to be troublesome getting out of this place. He had no idea where he was, what direction he was facing, and which way was out. In the end, he decided that he’d just have to pick a direction and go. He’d have to end up  _ somewhere. _ Nature was not a room with a single door, after all.


End file.
